Modern Mechanix posted this old ad for Corona typewriters. We have a slightly later model and I have to say that their claim that it’s the “finest, the fastest, the smoothest and easiest-running” is pretty darn true.
It’s the machine that we are most likely to pull out when we need to type something because its action is so nice. So, if you are looking for a typewriter for someone, and can find a Corona from the thirties, I highly recommend it.
It sounds like a gorgeous machine.
I have used two manual typewriters in my life: the first one I acquired in the first grade. It was a monstrously huge black thing with a dingy “Q”. My mother made me learn how to type correctly, starting me out with typing exercises. I remember the day I was so excited because I could actually type a real word: jam. Then one day my father hauled it off to the local thrift shop because… well, I have no idea why. It broke my heart and I was driven to use the household computer. I still wish I had my old black typewriter.
In high school I used my mother’s portable typewriter she had during the 1960’s. Though, by this time, we had two computers in the house, I loved having something to write on in my room or when we went on vacation to Portland, which happened twice a year.
There’s something so lovely and satisfying about writing on an actual manual typewriter, the weight of the keys … the click, click, click … watching the words appear on the page instead of a screen.
I adore my laptop, but sometimes I yearn for a typewriter.
Thanks for the link!
Remember – In the “Rob Kowal Memorial Bedroom” in Pearlridge, Hawaii, there sits a portable Smith-Corona waiting to go join all the other black Kowal typewriters where ever they may be.
Maggie: I know how you feel, though my first typewriter was an IBM Selectric. I just like watching the type ball spin around.
Momk: If we take it to the mainland with us, what will Rob type on when we come to visit you?
Some of you might be aware that Harlan Ellison has always composed on an Olympia manual, and still does to this day . . . with two fingers, at roughly 120 words a minute. In the upcoming documentary, “Dreams With Sharp Teeth,” his friend Robin Williams is visiting and sees a wall shelf full of spare Olympia manuals and calls it, in awe, a “munitions dump.”